


Aprons

by Zyxen



Category: Welcome to Night Vale
Genre: Aprons, Blame my friend for this, He's brilliant, Him and his terrible ideas, M/M, just cute things
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-23
Updated: 2015-09-23
Packaged: 2018-04-23 01:18:06
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 683
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4857716
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Zyxen/pseuds/Zyxen
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Aprons. Just aprons.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Aprons

**Author's Note:**

> Just a short thing that I wrote because Cecilos is the cutest.
> 
> Blame my friend and his brilliant ideas for this.
> 
> Disclaimer: Haibanashi does not own Welcome to Night Vale or any of its characters (though I wish I did). Haibanashi makes no profit off of this story.

Cecil blearily blinked his eyes open against the early morning light of the screeching, rising sun before letting his heavy eyelids fall closed. He hazily repositioned himself against the warm, soft sheets of his bed and reached out to where Carlos, perfect, brilliant Carlos, always was, the late sleeper he was. Cecil would spend these precious moments running gentle fingers through Carlos's perfect hair and trace along his perfect, strong jaw and —

Carlos wasn't there.

Cecil's eyes shot open.

No no no. Carlos couldn't be gone. Carlos never woke up before him. Carlos wouldn't just... just leave Cecil. But Carlos was perfect and Cecil wasn't and —

There was a sound coming from somewhere in the apartment.

Cecil felt all of the tension and fear (not concern this time, definitely fear) melt from his body. Carlos hadn't left him. Carlos had simply woken up before him. It was a first, an oddity, but really, Cecil felt foolish to think, to doubt, that wonderful Carlos would simply walk out on him without a single word.

Cecil rolled out of his bed and straightened out his sleep wrinkled shirt the best he could before heading towards wherever the sounds of Carlos doing whatever he was doing, forgoing his usual morning routine of writing in his dream journal and cursing the Desert Bluffs via his bloodstone. Cecil felt happy enough to give those cursed freaks a small respite, luckily for them.

Cecil so very gracefully stumbled throughout his home, still somewhat asleep despite his initial panic. He found himself walking down the hall that leaf to his kitchen, small clangs of metal and shuffling and sizzling sounding from the area. Ah, Carlos, such an amazing boyfriend, was making him breakfast. So very kind and generous of him.

Cecil turned the corner and froze. He was certain that he felt his heart, lungs, and at least five other vital organs stop working completely.

Carlos was standing there, poised and perfect, cooking breakfast with spatula in hand and.

And wearing nothing except striped boxers and a pink apron.

It only took another half of a second for the rest of Cecil's body to catch up with his eyes and speed up its functions to an almost painful yet ecstatic rate, his heart pounding like it desired to fly out of his chest and break into a full blown symphony (metaphorically of course).

It took another short passage of time for Cecil to gather himself enough to actually approach Carlos in all his perfection and beautiful hair.

"Good morning," Cecil whispered, his voice resonating through the air.

Carlos turned and gave him that most cherished smile. The one that showed off his perfect teeth and displayed his gentle tender heart through dark eyes. Cecil, who was only so strong in terms of his willpower, pressed his lips against Carlos's, the kiss they shared sweet and chaste, a simple yet profound display of pure undiluted affection.

They parted, they always had to part, and Carlos gave yet another priceless smile. "I'm cooking breakfast."

"I can see," Cecil gave his own completely inadequate smile. His eyes flickered to the apron. "Oh my, Carlos. How forward of you."

"What?" Carlos glanced down. "... oh."

"'Kiss the Cook'?" Cecil purred, pitching his voice down even as he felt heat steadily build in his cheeks. "Don't mind if I do. Perfectly imperfect, brilliant Carlos. My Carlos."

Needless to say, the kisses that followed were far more passionate than their predecessor.

And if Carlos spent the entire day with his fellow team of scientists with his cheeks stained bright red, it was absolutely not because of the few completely nonexistent stray marks on his neck that his coworkers teased him about. There was nothing in Night Vale that anyone could say with certainty was real, Carlos retorted with the utmost air of dignity and totally not embarrassment.

Of course, Carlos didn't voice, the love he shared with Cecil was most definitely real.

And even if it all was just a fringe dream that Carlos had conjured up, Carlos hoped it was one he would never wake from.

**Author's Note:**

> Yup. That's it.
> 
> There may be more one shots. Maybe.
> 
> Thank you for reading.
> 
> ~Haibanashi


End file.
